The Death of the Dynasty

Share.

Will any of today's gaming heroes match the lifespan of Mario?

By Sam Prescott

I am going to put it out there. Like a cat amongst the pigeons. Like a pig escaping the sack. Like a festering, drooling Caliban among the rocks of a storm tossed isle. And the it, is this: Nintendo is the unquestionable frontrunner when it comes to inventing and investing in videogame dynasties.

News? Maybe not. But why is this?

In 2011, Mario celebrated birthday number 25. By now, "Mario" is more than a name. Mario is a continued, and continuing, line of videogame royalty.

This is one of Nintendo's greatest strengths. Nintendo is like big tobacco. Only, you know, nicer. It hooks fans young, and then doesn't let go. Many of us felt like we grew up with Mario. Or, if not Mario, Link. The Legend of Zelda series, itself over 25 years old, is undeniably a videogame dynasty too.

A delicious dynasty.

Critics cite a lack of innovation in these lines but the voices of the fans always manage to call to their heroes at greater volume. The Miyamotos and Aonumas seem like they'll be around to answer for many years yet.

It was British advertising guru Kevin Roberts (chief executive of global powerhouse Saatchi & Saatchi) who came up with the idea of Lovemarks.

To paraphrase his ideas with a lack of elegance that will make the reason I'm not the chief executive of Saatchi & Saatchi very plain (for instance, I am about to quote Bon Jovi) Lovemarks are brands that you need like the poet needs the pain. They are brands to which you, dear consumer, are a mere bug-eyed, tongue-lolling Labrador retriever.

This is from the Lovemarks website: "Lovemarks reach your heart as well as your mind, creating an intimate, emotional connection that you just can't live without. Ever."

"Lovemarks inspire loyalty beyond reason."

This includes everybody who owns this film on VHS.

Loyalty beyond reason. Have you ever met a fanboy who was reasonable? We gamers have our Lovemarks. And perhaps that is the reason Mario remains such an incredible force in the market. For example, consider that games featuring Mario and his brother are often colloquially shortened to "Mario."

Mario, like Chuck Norris, is his own brand, and his own explanation.

Although this piece is not strictly about Lovemarks (itself a brand of sorts) for the record, the top 50 technology Lovemarks include the following: Atari (number 12), Nintendo (14), Sony PlayStation (26) and Xbox (25). Atari appearing higher on the list than the big three is a whole other story.

Mario and Link we can take as read. But what about Donkey Kong, Samus, Fox, Kirby and Pikachu? Is there a link between the success of dynasties and the games that so easily cross age brackets, perhaps? How many of us were eight or nine years old when we first played a Mario game? How many of us now commute to our insurance offices, car yards and pizza shops we half own with a guy we never really liked (and actually, now we're on the subject, doesn't even like pizza) with a DS or 3DS in tow?

But do game series and the characters therein have the same sticking power now?

Nintendo's dynasties all have one thing in common: an unusually long life. Each one is old, grizzled and hard worn as Clint Eastwood's stubble's stubble. This means each has also remained economically viable, which is a hugely important part of the videogame dynasty's symbiotic relationship with gamers' pockets. But what we can observe about all of them is that they had their start 15 to 20 years ago at least. So, where is the new wave?

What characters and series have we seen emerge, say, in the last 10 years that can hold a candle to the kind of attachment, wonder and awe inspired by the Marios and Links?

Is the day of the dynasty over?

In 2001, we first met Master Chief (actually, I met him much later, at which point he decided he didn't want any new friends and that pantywaists like me ought to die in his games as much as possible). Since then, his crucible has been trotted out at regular intervals, in largely the same guise.

Hates pantywaists.

Halo is a hugely popular series, having sold over 40 million units worldwide, but the Chief is not nearly as well loved as Mario. His helmet is surely not as cuddly as Mario's plush hat, and the world in which he layeth his smack down not so cutesy. But the reasons surely must go deeper than this. No one would ever dare suggest that gamers are fickle, right?

The Halo series is perhaps one of the best punts at building a lasting central character any company has had in recent times, and certainly the series will be some people's Lovemark (whether they know to call it that or not).

Microsoft, perhaps trying to capitalise on IP that originally appeared exclusively on a Nintendo system, re-imagined Banjo and Kazooie after it acquired Rare. Apparently, Nuts & Bolts appears to have been seen as a cheeky bit of carob to the series' prior rich chocolatey goodness. That was 2008 and they haven't reappeared.

We've seen three Uncharteds, now, with Drake's muscled stock rising fast. On the other hand, similar tough guys have literally drained the snake over their own legacy as recently as 2011 with Duke Nukem's penultimate episode. Contender for most hyped game of 2012, BioShock Infinite, seems to be shunning all reference to its lineage and holding on to the family ties in name only. So, while we might eventually see a longstanding series, there's no lovable lump at the centre to hang our controllers on.

"Speaking of lovable lumps, you wanna head back to my trailer? Yeah, they gave me a trailer."

When we take a look at characters who had honest shots at dynasty-status across other platforms, some with nearly as many crows' feet as the indomitable plumber, it's still hard to find the dignity and consistency that Nintendo seems to have enjoyed.

Crash Bandicoot was one of PlayStation's first flagship characters, and the series has met with not-inconsiderable commercial success since its inception in 1996. But it hopped developers and it hopped platform – the most recent iterations have been for mobile devices. Poor old Crash, it seems, didn't even have the decency to flame out. Why couldn't he dig his paws in? (Do bandicoots have paws? I guess they have paws). Do people not like bandicoots?

Another anthropomorphic paragon is that be-sneakered hedgehog, whose games made SEGA a true contender in the home console market during the 1990s. Despite bumps along the way he's still cashing his rings in across multiple platforms, although recently he joined arch nemesis Mario in an Olympic mash up. Desperate times. In Sonic's recent appearances I'm reminded a bit of Andy Millman's stint on Celebrity Big Brother at the tail end of Extras, but the dynasty remains as yet intact, if a little fragile.

You should be ashamed of yourself, hedgehog.

No one could claim that Final Fantasy, with its titles dating back to 1987, isn't a dynasty. The series can also boast some of the most passionate fans, for whom its success can't be pinned down to any one thing. But with such a varied and complex world, there's no one character out in front. The Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat series are similar in this regard; well loved series both, but their casts are without captain.

As publishers all look for the next Harry Potter, film producers the next... Harry Potter, and record labels the next Venga Boys, so too must videogame developers and publishers be looking for that character who leaps off the screen and cries, "IT'S-A ME!"

Who's out there now that's worth listening to?

Sam Prescott is a New Zealand-based freelancer. You can follow him on Twitter @samjprescott